


Cheese on Toast

by rowankhanna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Percy getting excited about Quidditch, eating in the common room, midnight snack, sneaking around at night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 07:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10271504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowankhanna/pseuds/rowankhanna
Summary: Percy is patrolling the castle when he finds Oliver Wood hanging around outside the kitchen, eating cheese on toast.





	

Percy has no idea why it’s always him. Maybe it’s because the other Prefects have a habit of falling asleep on duty. Maybe it’s because McGonagall likes him; his Transfiguration marks are always Outstanding. Maybe it’s because someone keeps changing the bloody rota (he suspects one of the Slytherin Prefects of this, but has no proof, so he only ever expresses this to anyone unfortunate enough to be in his dorm with him when he’s angry). But here he is: it’s past midnight and pitch black and he’s wandering through the corridors, his wand lit with a _lumos_ so that he can see his way; he’s not keen to repeat his experience of falling where the stairs were meant to be and panicking, terrified, screeching out an _arresto momentum_ before he hit the ground, barely cushioning the blow. It hadn’t been pleasant, and Fred and George certainly didn’t let it go for the next several months. The staircases had seemed a little terrifying afterwards, too.

He’s glad when it’s time to head back to the Gryffindor dorms and cuts back past the Hufflepuff common room when he pauses, catching a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He frowns and casts a _lumos maxima_ , and though it’s too strong to make out anything, he sees the black silhouette of someone by the kitchens, and he sighs, lowering his wand. There’s only one person he knows with shoulders that broad.

“Bloody hell, Percy,” Oliver groans, running his eyes. “That was a bit bright.”

“Sorry,” Percy murmurs. “But I have to be on the lookout, even if that means blinding other students. Besides, you shouldn’t be out of bed.” Any other time, he’d be less forgiving, but he was in the crowd for the Quidditch match, too, and had almost embarrassed himself with excitement when Gryffindor had won after an achingly long match, so Oliver being hungry was hardly a surprise. “Come on. We should get back.”

“They’ve got cheese on toast,” Oliver offers hopefully. Percy rolls his eyes, but even he can tell that Oliver isn’t coming until he’s eaten, so he ends up sitting with him in the bowels of the kitchen and eating a cheese toastie; he hadn’t thought that he was all that hungry, but the minute he registers the smell, his stomach growls and the house elves insist on feeding him. They head to the common room with paper plates a few minutes later and sit cross-legged by the fire, enjoying their extra dinner.

“Congratulations on the match,” Percy says; he might’ve said it earlier, but Oliver had been surrounded earlier by his team and fans and Percy hadn’t even managed to get a nose in. “You played well.”

“And you could’ve too if you hadn’t insisted that you were too busy to be on the team.”

“I still insist.”

“Thanks, though.” Oliver finishes his toast and tosses his plate into the fire, which eats it greedily. “And thanks for not getting me into trouble. Good to see that even you know the value of cheesy bread. Very important staple in a Quidditch diet.”

Percy shrugs. “If the kitchens are okay with it, I really don’t see a problem with eating after curfew, personally. It’s easy to get hungry.” He finishes his own midnight snack and casts it into the fire with a flick of his wand, and as he does, he notices just how close his hand is to Oliver’s; his is so much smaller and thinner. Oliver has Keeper’s hands, just as calloused as Charlie’s. Oliver notices him staring.

“Something interesting, Weasley?” he teases, and Percy blushes hard, looking away. “There are rumours going around about you in the dorms.”

“What kind of rumours?”

“That you Beat for the other team.” Trust Oliver to come up with a Quidditch analogy; the boy doesn’t think about anything but the sport, Percy thinks. But he finds himself nodding anyway. He’s not sure why he’s telling Oliver, but he supposes that they have been sharing a room for years upon years, so they’re hardly strangers. He can even distinguish Oliver’s snoring from the other boys. He supposes that’s ground enough to tell him something important.

“I do,” says Percy. “I hoped it wasn’t true – I tried, with Penny, but it’s just the way I feel.”

“Why? What’s wrong with liking other guys?” Oliver tilts his head, curious, but Percy can’t help but feel like he’s insulted the Keeper.

“Nothing, really. I just feel like I’m letting my mother down, not being able to provide any grandchildren or anything…”

“She’s got seven bloody kids, Percy! I’m sure she’ll have plenty other grandkids. Plenty of nieces and nephews for you.” Before either of them really know what’s happened, Oliver grabs Percy’s hand firmly in his determination for Percy to just _understand_ and Percy is growing redder by the second and wishing that he wasn’t so addled with all the issues that came with being a teenager; things would be so much easier, he thinks, if he didn’t always want to kiss Oliver Wood.

He can’t believe he’s just admitted it to himself.

“And there are rumours,” Oliver says softly, shifting himself, “that you like me. What about those?”

“Those are true, too,” Percy says, and kisses him. He’s a little unsure at first, not sure where his hands or his tongue or his anything go, but Oliver takes the lead, tangling his hands in Percy’s hair and kissing him deeper until they eventually break apart in surprise. Oliver grins a grin that makes him look a little too pleased with himself, so Percy does him a favour and kisses it away, just to make sure that first one wasn’t a fluke. It wasn’t. This one makes him feel just as much like he’s imploding with joy.

“Guess they’re not rumours anymore,” Oliver quips, and Percy gives him a play punch in the shoulder as he laughs. He sets Percy’s misplaced curls back into place. “I always knew you were good luck. Always win a Quidditch match with you in the crowd.”

“I might be a little more than that,” Percy teases as he gets to his feet, straightening his tie out of habit. “Say, Oliver.” The other boy stands up and kisses Percy again before asking “what?”. Percy’s face, usually a picture of sobriety, breaks into a huge grin, warm and inviting and probably the prettiest Oliver’s ever seen. “What would you say to more cheese on toast?”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was okay, because I'm ill and it was written very quickly, but I find these two so cute! Thank you for reading! Come yell at me on Tumblr @pcrcyweasleys !


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